


but I'll take it

by folkinround



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkinround/pseuds/folkinround
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian visits Mickey after he's shot by Jimmy's mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but I'll take it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Holmes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holmes/gifts).



> for my girl <3
> 
> Title from The Mountain Goats.

Ian feels his heartbeat increase its pace as he approaches the Milkovich house. He’s never been _nervous_ about it before, but he insists that this time is different. They fucked up in a different way, and it could have gone really badly. He keeps thinking about the look on Mickey’s face as he jumped back in the van, the sounds he made as Lloyd took care of him on the Gallagher’s kitchen table. He’s worried about Mickey, that’s why he’s here.

He can feel his heartbeat on his ears as he steps up to the front door and knocks.

It’s only a few seconds until he hears Mickey yell ( _coming!_ ), the turn on the knob and the click of the lock.

“The fuck you doin’ here?” Mickey asks when he opens the door to Ian. He doesn’t hesitate to step to the side and gesture him in, though.

The Milkovich house is quiet and empty, except for Mickey, but still the boy leads the way to his bedroom quickly, as if he has to sneak Ian in before anyone can catch them. It bothers Ian, to see Mickey uneasy around him, even if only slightly, but he chooses not to say anything about it for now.

“Mandy told me you were alone here,” he says instead. “How’s your ass?”

Mickey shrugs.

“Sorry to disappoint, Gallagher, but I don’t think I got any fuck in me for a few days, at least,” he admits, scratching his upper lip with his thumb.

Ian laughs a little, shaking his head. “Gee, okay,” he says, voice deadpan. “I’ll be off, then. Be sure to text me when you want to fuck.” He doesn’t move, though, but crosses his arms in front of his chest and stands his ground.

Mickey looks up at him and lifts one eyebrow.

“Okay, so you wanna be funny now, eh?” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as well. Ian tilts his head a little and lifts his eyebrows as well, lips twitching into a bit of a smile. “Yeah, well,” Mickey says, shrugging again. “Hurts like a bitch,” he admits.

Ian’s smile falters.

 _I’m sorry_ , he wants to say. _For putting you through it. If only I’d known…_

He doesn’t say any of it, though, knowing that it wouldn’t sit well with Mickey.

“Well, are you gonna come in or what?” Mickey asks, and Ian doesn’t really need more encouragement than that. He walks into the bedroom and closes the door after himself.

 

~

 

“ _A-ah ah!_ Fuck, wait,” Mickey yelps. Ian stops right away, hips stilling. Mickey cranes his neck to look back at him. “Not gonna happen, Gallagher. Pull out,” he decides.

Ian can’t help but laugh a little as he pulls out, zipping himself back up. He doesn’t mean to be mean to Mickey, is not even really mad that they can’t fuck like that.

“Fuck you,” Mickey says, zipping himself back up too. He has his back turned to Ian, a light flush on his cheeks and his gaze directed downwards.

Ian feels his stomach flip once. He sits on the edge of the bed, legs slightly apart, and licks his lips.

“Hey,” he calls. “C’mere.”

Mickey turns slowly, eyes dubious and eyebrows raised. There is no denying his hard on, though, and Ian’s eyes linger on that, lips quirking into a smirk.

Mickey doesn’t need much more encouragement than that. It’s a few seconds until his pants are on the floor and Ian’s kneeling between his legs, hands on his hips and mouth wrapped around his cock. The mouth is important, of course; the sucking, the hollowing cheeks and tongue swirls, but it doesn’t work alone. The thumb repeatedly strokes his hipbone, and the little hums that come from the back of Ian’s throat is what sets Mickey off. It’s not long until he comes, moaning low and breathlessly, fingers brushing Ian’s very short red hair.

Ian fucking loves Mickey like this, the way he looks just after he’s come, his lips red from biting, his eyes unfocused. He presses a kiss to Mickey’s hipbone and stands up, cracking his back and neck, licking his own lips and still tasting Mickey on them. His hard on is probably obvious, pressing tightly against his pants, wanting to be free of them. Mickey’s eyes move from Ian’s eyes to his lips and then slowly down to the front of his pants.

Ian blinks, and Mickey’s on him, kissing him as he climbs onto his lap.

It’s still kind of a new thing, the kissing, but Ian would be lying if he said he wasn’t already more than used to it. To Mickey running his tongue across his teeth, to tasting him on his tongue, to sucking little hums and other sounds out of him.

Ian lies back against the pillows and pulls Mickey with him, runs his hands through his deliciously, surprisingly _soft_ hair.

 

~

 

The shared smoke is a usual thing. Something that they do since the beginning, but Ian feels like holding it back now. Mickey has the pack within reach, but he doesn’t make a move for it yet. Lighting the cigarette means limiting their time even more. It’s the last couple of minutes they have together, and Ian would like to delay that for a bit longer.

They lay together instead, their arms brushing, staring at the ceiling.

It’s quiet and peaceful, Ian closes his eyes and concentrates on breathing for a minute. Inhale and exhale, and he feels Mickey do the same, though his breathing is not as calm. Ian can feel tension coming off the boy, floating in the air above them. He bites his lip and takes in a breath to prepare to speak, but Mickey beats him to it.

“Listen, man, my old man’s gonna get back any minute now...” he says, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. He stands and zips himself up, then turns to face Ian. His shirt is askew and his hair wild, lips red and shiny. Ian could take a picture of that face.

“Yeah, alright,” he says instead, standing as well and pulling his shirt back on. “I’m off.”

Mickey hums and nods. He finally reaches for his cigarette pack and lights one up, takes a small drag and then offers it to Ian. Ian takes it, blows the smoke out slowly and watches Mickey.

“Thanks, man,” he says, and Mickey nods, his eyes still directed to Ian’s feet instead of his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow at work,” he says, shifting from foot to foot in front of Ian.

Ian lingers for a moment, watching Mickey. His feet seem to not want to move, weighting him down and keeping him in place. Mickey meets his eyes and scratches his lip with his thumb. He holds Ian’s gaze for a few seconds and Ian can almost swear he sees it in Mickey too, the desire to stay.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head, though, letting Mickey pat him on the shoulder and guide him to the front door, then out into the porch.

“See you,” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Ian nods. “See you,” and he tries not to look back until he’s at a safe distance, feeling a weight settle further down on his stomach with each step he takes. Mickey’s still hanging on the porch when he does look back, though, cigarette on his mouth, staring back at him.


End file.
